Angel and Wesley walked side by side as they watched the others move along.
Wesley waited until Willow and the others were out of hearing range before
he spoke.
"I can't believe Willow made us let them go, just when we had them in our grasp!" he muttered to his vampire friend who nodded briskly.
"Wesley, I know the loss of Connor and the others hurt you deeply, and as much as I yearn for revenge, I must ignore it. We're no better than La Morte, and we're now on the same side. So I suggest that you stow away your hatred and concentrate on defeating the current threat at hand," Angel replied raising the tone of his voice.
Wesley laughed, "I don't think I'll forgive and forget the deaths of my esteemed comrades. And I'll kill the slut and her murderous boyfriend by myself if I have to."
"I don't want to hear any more of your vindictive desires, Wesley, right now, we have a bit more important issues to deal with than some petty quest for revenge."
"Petty quest for revenge? Angel, he killed your son! Your flesh and blood, your friends and yet you feel some sympathy for such a malicious cur like him?" Wesley looked puzzled and angry as he spouted his words with disdain.
"You forget that I was a malicious cur just like him, I know the pain he's going through. He did kill Connor, but vengeance is not justice and even if I were to follow your plan, it wouldn't bring Connor or the others back. All we would do is lower ourselves to the level of the enemies we are fighting and that must never happen."
"Quite the philosopher you are, Angel," Wesley snickered, "oh well, I think Buffy will have the guts to get back at those two for what they did to us! It's a pity I never realized before what a naïve fool you are," Wesley turned his back on Angel and ran over to Buffy.
Angel gritted his teeth and gave Wesley a hateful leer.
"I'll tell Buffy, she wants justice for the others too," Wesley mused, as he inched towards Buffy.
Wesley strutted off, jogging to catch up with the petite blonde slayer. He smiled; he would have his revenge yet.
Angel watched with fear gnawing away at his soul. He was well aware of what treachery Wesley was capable of and he hoped Buffy wouldn't go along with his plan, but he knew deep down inside of him that she would. His best bet was to warn La Morte and Faith of Wesley's deceitful intentions if they arrived in time. But right now, he had to concentrate on stopping Micah Luke from sacrificing Dawn and ending the world. He quickened his pace to catch up with the others.
Meanwhile, Giles and Willow were plodding along towards the front of the group. Giles still clutched his ax from the night's combat while Willow walked along calmly, seemingly unarmed but one could tell that she was one of the most powerful of the group even unarmed.
Giles spoke up, "excuse Willow, but I would like to inquire why you had us spare those two? It seems a bit odd that you wanted to spare that demon-"
Willow cut him off, "Giles, there are some things that not even you can possibly comprehend." She increased her pace, leaving Giles in the dust behind her.
"How odd," Giles miffed and then he noticed Buffy and wesley whispering about something as they walked along. He watched the motions on their lips, slowly reading them as their plan unfolded before his brain. They had been faking their sincerity after the church battle and they were planning to kill Faith and La Morte if they joined in the fight against Micah Luke. Giles felt sick to the core as he realized how much his slayer had changed. He sympathized with them and he respected the fallen comrades who had died, but such insidious vengeance seemed dishonorable and foul to him.
Whether or not Faith and La Morte deserved to be stabbed in the back didn't matter to him. He knew he had to reach Willow and tell her about the plot that was being formulated behind her back. But before he could, he heard Oz shouting and pointing to a tall building about a block away from them. Sure enough, it was the cathedral La Morte spoke of. Tall, graceful gothic styled arches loomed before them along with a massive belltower, religious statues and gargoyles.
Inside, the survivors of the night attack stood chanting loudly in Latin while armed members and black and red-robed Jesuits stood alongside the altar, where Dawn lay bound.
Dawn struggled against her bonds as the chanting rose to a crescendo, defeaning her with the loud Gregorian rhythms. It was like being caged in the lair of the Beast, a creepy reminder of years ago when Glory and her minions had imprisoned her before taking her to be sacrificed. She would've preferred to hear Glory's whining narcissism rather than the creepy chanting among the expressionless faces of the acolytes and priests that surrounded her.
Then, the chanting stopped, but it was no time for relief as a yellow-robed priest walked into the chamber singing and swinging an incense urn, filling the room with the sweet, bitter smell of incense. He was followed by a group of red-robed Jesuits, all armed with ceremonial blades and then Micah Luke entered the room. The quiet room lit up as the fanatics began cheering and chanting as the flickering candlelight illuminated the huge man.
Micah Luke was dressed in a suit of white armor with a surcoat bearing a flaming cross along his chest. He carried a long sword with twin serrated edges in both hands as if it were sacred. His blondish brown beard was thick and long as if he hadn't shaved for days. He looked dirty and unkempt despite his majestic armor but the creepiest part of him was his eyes. His eyes had no pupils nor irises, they were void of anything except a yellowish-white, pale glow.
Micah and his entourage walked into the center of the altar. He spoke up, his southern twang clearly audible.
"My brothers and sisters, the time has finally come to pass judgment upon the world. This world has been eroding with sin and godlessness. It is time to restore order and holiness upon this chaotic world, but first we must destroy it before it can be rebuilt in God's image. This is where she comes in handy," he smiled, motioning towards Dawn.
Dawn tried to scream, but one of her bonds was across her mouth and prevented her from screaming. She watched in horror as he continued.
"Yes friends, she is the key to all worlds. Once I spill her blood across the holy altar, the dimensions shall be undone and the world shall collapse upon itself. Once the world is destroyed, then it can be reborn, cleansed of sin and evil and remade in God's image. And I, your savior, Micah Luke, shall rule with the Lord for all millennia to come! Amen!"
"Amen!" The crowd chanted louder and louder as they raised their fists into the air.
Micah Luke motioned to quiet them down, "but as I am well aware that this girl has friends, I prepared a little surprise for them. You see, I have just completed a ritual in which I am now empowered with the hand of God. I cannot be harmed by anything of this world, only something created by only God himself can destroy me. No magic can touch me, no weapon forged by man, for I am invincible under the Lord's will. Nothing, not even the slayer or the vampire can stop me!" He raised his arms into the air, brandishing his sword.
The crowd began chanting once again, some exuberantly cheering their master's impending victory.
Dawn thought, man, and I thought Caleb was a nutcase, this guy's a total wacko! Worse, is that he's possibly one of the most powerful wacko's I've ever seen. She shut her ears to the rest of Micah Luke's tirade and hoped Buffy would come soon and put an end to the preacher's incessant rant. Her prayers were answered as a crossbow bolt sailed through the room, imbedding itself in one of the Jesuits who was standing beside her.
Micah Luke whirled around to face the source of the bolt, "it seems the infidels have arrived! Taste the power of God ye mortals!" He laughed savagely as he motioned for his minions to surge forward and attack them.
"Could you cut it with the Sunday school diatribe? It's kind of hurting my ears," Buffy smiled as she tossed the crossbow over to Wesley, disarmed the closest fanatic and engaged his compatriots with his sword, taking glee as she sent one howling to floor, covering his slashed face with his hands.
"Micah Luke, you'll pay for Connor and the others!" Angel growled as her rushed into the fray, his game face on.
Fanatics and Jesuits fell over backwards as they tried to face Willow, but she effortlessly knocked them aside with elemental spells. Xander and Oz stood side by side her, Xander swinging his ax into the melee while Oz in werewolf form howled away as he crushed those who opposed him.
Kennedy was the first to reach the altar, she cut Dawn's bonds loose while fending off the armed Jesuits who tried to stop her. She was quickly joined by Buffy and Angel, who freed Dawn and told Kennedy to take her away to the others.
Then, Micah Luke turned around and faced them. His face lost all trace of emotion as he began chanting something in Latin. Flame then gushed from his sword, Buffy and Angel only missed it by throwing themselves to the ground while Kennedy and Dawn rushed away towards the others.
"Let the Lord cleanse ye infidels in holy fire," Micah Luke chanted-
He was interrupted by Buffy, who used the opportunity to throw a knife that buried itself in La Morte's throat. The fanatic started gurgling and fell to the floor. Buffy and Angel rose to their feet and Angel was about to congratulate Buffy on her quick maneuver when Micah Luke rose to his feet and withdrew the blade from his neck. He stared at it and crushed it in his mailed fist.
"You pathetic fools! How dare you tempt the Lord's power?" He screeched as he rushed at them, "Ye shall repent or face the righteous fury of the Lord!"
Buffy braced herself in a fighting stance, "bring it on Jesus-boy," she smiled as the screaming fanatic rushed towards her and Angel.
"I can't believe Willow made us let them go, just when we had them in our grasp!" he muttered to his vampire friend who nodded briskly.
"Wesley, I know the loss of Connor and the others hurt you deeply, and as much as I yearn for revenge, I must ignore it. We're no better than La Morte, and we're now on the same side. So I suggest that you stow away your hatred and concentrate on defeating the current threat at hand," Angel replied raising the tone of his voice.
Wesley laughed, "I don't think I'll forgive and forget the deaths of my esteemed comrades. And I'll kill the slut and her murderous boyfriend by myself if I have to."
"I don't want to hear any more of your vindictive desires, Wesley, right now, we have a bit more important issues to deal with than some petty quest for revenge."
"Petty quest for revenge? Angel, he killed your son! Your flesh and blood, your friends and yet you feel some sympathy for such a malicious cur like him?" Wesley looked puzzled and angry as he spouted his words with disdain.
"You forget that I was a malicious cur just like him, I know the pain he's going through. He did kill Connor, but vengeance is not justice and even if I were to follow your plan, it wouldn't bring Connor or the others back. All we would do is lower ourselves to the level of the enemies we are fighting and that must never happen."
"Quite the philosopher you are, Angel," Wesley snickered, "oh well, I think Buffy will have the guts to get back at those two for what they did to us! It's a pity I never realized before what a naïve fool you are," Wesley turned his back on Angel and ran over to Buffy.
Angel gritted his teeth and gave Wesley a hateful leer.
"I'll tell Buffy, she wants justice for the others too," Wesley mused, as he inched towards Buffy.
Wesley strutted off, jogging to catch up with the petite blonde slayer. He smiled; he would have his revenge yet.
Angel watched with fear gnawing away at his soul. He was well aware of what treachery Wesley was capable of and he hoped Buffy wouldn't go along with his plan, but he knew deep down inside of him that she would. His best bet was to warn La Morte and Faith of Wesley's deceitful intentions if they arrived in time. But right now, he had to concentrate on stopping Micah Luke from sacrificing Dawn and ending the world. He quickened his pace to catch up with the others.
Meanwhile, Giles and Willow were plodding along towards the front of the group. Giles still clutched his ax from the night's combat while Willow walked along calmly, seemingly unarmed but one could tell that she was one of the most powerful of the group even unarmed.
Giles spoke up, "excuse Willow, but I would like to inquire why you had us spare those two? It seems a bit odd that you wanted to spare that demon-"
Willow cut him off, "Giles, there are some things that not even you can possibly comprehend." She increased her pace, leaving Giles in the dust behind her.
"How odd," Giles miffed and then he noticed Buffy and wesley whispering about something as they walked along. He watched the motions on their lips, slowly reading them as their plan unfolded before his brain. They had been faking their sincerity after the church battle and they were planning to kill Faith and La Morte if they joined in the fight against Micah Luke. Giles felt sick to the core as he realized how much his slayer had changed. He sympathized with them and he respected the fallen comrades who had died, but such insidious vengeance seemed dishonorable and foul to him.
Whether or not Faith and La Morte deserved to be stabbed in the back didn't matter to him. He knew he had to reach Willow and tell her about the plot that was being formulated behind her back. But before he could, he heard Oz shouting and pointing to a tall building about a block away from them. Sure enough, it was the cathedral La Morte spoke of. Tall, graceful gothic styled arches loomed before them along with a massive belltower, religious statues and gargoyles.
Inside, the survivors of the night attack stood chanting loudly in Latin while armed members and black and red-robed Jesuits stood alongside the altar, where Dawn lay bound.
Dawn struggled against her bonds as the chanting rose to a crescendo, defeaning her with the loud Gregorian rhythms. It was like being caged in the lair of the Beast, a creepy reminder of years ago when Glory and her minions had imprisoned her before taking her to be sacrificed. She would've preferred to hear Glory's whining narcissism rather than the creepy chanting among the expressionless faces of the acolytes and priests that surrounded her.
Then, the chanting stopped, but it was no time for relief as a yellow-robed priest walked into the chamber singing and swinging an incense urn, filling the room with the sweet, bitter smell of incense. He was followed by a group of red-robed Jesuits, all armed with ceremonial blades and then Micah Luke entered the room. The quiet room lit up as the fanatics began cheering and chanting as the flickering candlelight illuminated the huge man.
Micah Luke was dressed in a suit of white armor with a surcoat bearing a flaming cross along his chest. He carried a long sword with twin serrated edges in both hands as if it were sacred. His blondish brown beard was thick and long as if he hadn't shaved for days. He looked dirty and unkempt despite his majestic armor but the creepiest part of him was his eyes. His eyes had no pupils nor irises, they were void of anything except a yellowish-white, pale glow.
Micah and his entourage walked into the center of the altar. He spoke up, his southern twang clearly audible.
"My brothers and sisters, the time has finally come to pass judgment upon the world. This world has been eroding with sin and godlessness. It is time to restore order and holiness upon this chaotic world, but first we must destroy it before it can be rebuilt in God's image. This is where she comes in handy," he smiled, motioning towards Dawn.
Dawn tried to scream, but one of her bonds was across her mouth and prevented her from screaming. She watched in horror as he continued.
"Yes friends, she is the key to all worlds. Once I spill her blood across the holy altar, the dimensions shall be undone and the world shall collapse upon itself. Once the world is destroyed, then it can be reborn, cleansed of sin and evil and remade in God's image. And I, your savior, Micah Luke, shall rule with the Lord for all millennia to come! Amen!"
"Amen!" The crowd chanted louder and louder as they raised their fists into the air.
Micah Luke motioned to quiet them down, "but as I am well aware that this girl has friends, I prepared a little surprise for them. You see, I have just completed a ritual in which I am now empowered with the hand of God. I cannot be harmed by anything of this world, only something created by only God himself can destroy me. No magic can touch me, no weapon forged by man, for I am invincible under the Lord's will. Nothing, not even the slayer or the vampire can stop me!" He raised his arms into the air, brandishing his sword.
The crowd began chanting once again, some exuberantly cheering their master's impending victory.
Dawn thought, man, and I thought Caleb was a nutcase, this guy's a total wacko! Worse, is that he's possibly one of the most powerful wacko's I've ever seen. She shut her ears to the rest of Micah Luke's tirade and hoped Buffy would come soon and put an end to the preacher's incessant rant. Her prayers were answered as a crossbow bolt sailed through the room, imbedding itself in one of the Jesuits who was standing beside her.
Micah Luke whirled around to face the source of the bolt, "it seems the infidels have arrived! Taste the power of God ye mortals!" He laughed savagely as he motioned for his minions to surge forward and attack them.
"Could you cut it with the Sunday school diatribe? It's kind of hurting my ears," Buffy smiled as she tossed the crossbow over to Wesley, disarmed the closest fanatic and engaged his compatriots with his sword, taking glee as she sent one howling to floor, covering his slashed face with his hands.
"Micah Luke, you'll pay for Connor and the others!" Angel growled as her rushed into the fray, his game face on.
Fanatics and Jesuits fell over backwards as they tried to face Willow, but she effortlessly knocked them aside with elemental spells. Xander and Oz stood side by side her, Xander swinging his ax into the melee while Oz in werewolf form howled away as he crushed those who opposed him.
Kennedy was the first to reach the altar, she cut Dawn's bonds loose while fending off the armed Jesuits who tried to stop her. She was quickly joined by Buffy and Angel, who freed Dawn and told Kennedy to take her away to the others.
Then, Micah Luke turned around and faced them. His face lost all trace of emotion as he began chanting something in Latin. Flame then gushed from his sword, Buffy and Angel only missed it by throwing themselves to the ground while Kennedy and Dawn rushed away towards the others.
"Let the Lord cleanse ye infidels in holy fire," Micah Luke chanted-
He was interrupted by Buffy, who used the opportunity to throw a knife that buried itself in La Morte's throat. The fanatic started gurgling and fell to the floor. Buffy and Angel rose to their feet and Angel was about to congratulate Buffy on her quick maneuver when Micah Luke rose to his feet and withdrew the blade from his neck. He stared at it and crushed it in his mailed fist.
"You pathetic fools! How dare you tempt the Lord's power?" He screeched as he rushed at them, "Ye shall repent or face the righteous fury of the Lord!"
Buffy braced herself in a fighting stance, "bring it on Jesus-boy," she smiled as the screaming fanatic rushed towards her and Angel.
